My brain floats behind my eyes, a storm of sparks thrown from woven currents— A writhing mass of computational fury. An enigma; yet just as bound by the laws of the flesh; We only fool ourselves to think it escapes this physical reality.
The observer sees my particular set of actions, reactions, expressions; This is all that defines me. There is no abstract I floating somewhere in grey static space. I am merely a fragile pattern, set amidst the chronologic noise of human existence.
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